Seduction*

I guess Christmas is gone. All of the ornaments are put away. When I come downstairs in the morning I’m still a bit surprised not to find the Christmas tree. And ironically, we now have perfect “white Christmas” weather, cold and crisp and “snow lay all around” and so on. About all that’s left now are the memories. And the gifts.

We like to carry on about the gifts, either spending too much emotional energy on them or too much money or, alternatively, worrying too much about how they corrupt the spirit of Christmas. But it seems just about right this year—all of the outward signs of Christmas are gone, but as you move around our house, the gifts, which by now have been completely integrated into the flow of our lives, are visibly present. Our lives are enriched by them, and our hearts are warmed by using them in cognizance of the love that lay behind each.

It reminds me a little bit of the way glbt folk tend to occupy points along a social continuum between being either very gay or what we keep seeing in Craig’s List referred to as straight-acting. Let’s face it people, we’re gay. And we derive not just sexual identity from acknowledging our community, but also a sense of enrichment and warmth. Sort of like those gifts in the season after Christmas. We are all better off for knowing of each others’ presence, and to the extent we are able to participate in the real or virtual glbt communities, we are enriched by the experience. The proverbial “gift that keeps on giving,” I guess.

This gift of course is love. But more than that, it also is fellowship, which is the spiritual expression of love. You don’t have to go to a gay bar or a lesbian dance or the lgbt community center to experience this fellowship. All you have to do is accept yourself as God made you, to know that you are part of this greater spiritual community. Therein lies the gift.

So that brings me to this week’s scripture—because, of course, this is all a metaphor for the gifts of life and love given us by God, and the gifts of unity given us by God through Christ. Before you were even in your mother’s womb God had called you to this glbt life, to exercise your spiritual gifts by making fellowship of love in the human community. God does not require worship from you, rather, God has given you ears to hear God’s call to you. Listen to it in the quickening of your heart, in the warmth in your soul. And then proclaim who you are in the company of the community, for you have been enriched in every way.

I had a good chuckle (maybe I should say “LOL”) looking at this passage from John’s Gospel. Yes, outwardly it is the story of the calling of Jesus’ disciples Andrew and Peter from among the cohort of John the Baptist’s disciples. But look at it again, with the eyes of your gay heart. Jesus is being very coy, which is very seductive. There aren’t many details—for instance, it just says they were “standing” with John—it doesn’t tell us where. Not until the end do we learn it was 4 pm—T-dance time. It says John “exclaims”—now place one hand on one hip, and push, wave the other hand in the air, and “exclaim.” Remind you of anything? The disciples follow Jesus, discretely—or not. The punctuation provides the dramatic pause we need, to imagine the disco music fading out as Jesus turns to ask “what are you looking for?” Go ahead, fill in the rest for yourself.

It is a seduction of sorts. And there are two lessons here for glbt people. First, that the stories about Jesus are not exclusively the province of any band of humans. Rather, they are written so that everyone who encounters them can be drawn in, you and me included, and imagine ourselves, as ourselves, in the scene. Second, and more importantly, is that Jesus asks you and me to enter this seductive dance so that when we respond to his call to “Come and see” we too, will choose to stay.

One more thing. The choice to stay with Jesus is transformative. In the story Jesus gives them new names. In reality the encounter with Jesus transforms everything within us, enriches us in every way as Paul writes. It is just like our post-Christmas encounters with our gifts from those who love us and whom we love, contacts which generate the warmth of love with every encounter. Encounter Jesus, embrace your gay self, “come and see,” and live.

*2nd Sunday after the Epiphany (Isaiah 49:1-7, Psalm 40:1-12, 1 Corinthians 1:1-9, John 1:29-42)

©2011 The Rev. Dr. Richard P. Smiraglia. All rights reserved.